


Red Herrings

by Forestwater



Series: Forestfuckery [4]
Category: Camp Camp (Web Series)
Genre: Choking, Clothes swap, Intercrural Sex, M/M, Surprisingly Fluffy, also not fluffy at all oh my god these two are terrible together and separate, it’s not exactly dubcon but what I’ve heard termed “bad BDSM etiquette", just overall bad sex etiquette in general, kevdan is trash and I love it, kinkantine, my otp is not otp material, takes place an indeterminate amount of time after “Camp Loser Says What?”
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-20
Updated: 2020-07-20
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:46:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25402558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Forestwater/pseuds/Forestwater
Summary: “There’s no way this is going to work.”“Not with that attitude. Now shut up and tell me when I can turn around.”
Relationships: Daniel/Dirty Kevin (Camp Camp), Kevdan
Series: Forestfuckery [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1195897
Comments: 2
Kudos: 14





	Red Herrings

**Author's Note:**

> The first in a series of Kinktober prompts, reworked for the summer! Main prompt was Clothes Swap, and as I worked through it I threw in there Choking and Hate/Angry Sex. Because that's what these two are up to.

“There’s no way this is going to work.”

“Not with that attitude. Now shut up and tell me when I can turn around.”

There was no answer, but after a long moment of silence Dirty Kevin heard a heavy sigh and the rustling of clothing. He leaned against the wall, looking out their apartment window, resisting the urge to scratch his foil-coated hair, and trying to place the noises coming from behind him. The light clink of metal was a belt, or maybe the thousands of pointless zippered pockets every pair of jeans he could find inexplicably came with. The squeaking of rubber soles against his definitely-not-real-hardwood floor, the dragging catch of bitten-ragged fingernails on the thick fabric of his recently-redyed hoodie (and if he damaged it, Dirty Kevin would kill him with Daniel’s own stupid knife. He loved that shirt more than most people).

There was a disdainful sniff from behind him, which Kevin took as permission to turn around. Daniel was standing in the center of the living room, holding his arms out to the side as though trying not to touch the awesome red sweatshirt he was wearing. The look on his face was utter disgust as he looked down at himself, then lifted his eyes to Kevin’s.

“There’s no _way_ this is going to work,” he repeated, blinking slowly like he was trying to call for help in Morse code. “We’re dead.”

Kevin ignored him – Daniel had dropped the Pollyanna routine real quick after returning from Antarctica, and it was easy enough to ignore his dour complaints – crossing the room and tugging gently at Daniel’s sweatshirt until it sat a bit more naturally on his stick-thin frame. Kevin didn’t consider himself a big guy by any means (he was definitely on the twinkish side of “otter”), but his clothes were oversized on _him_ ; his new roommate, having somehow gotten even skinnier on his international roadtrip, was swimming in the heavy fabric. 

He looked like an irritated chihuahua someone had dressed in people-clothes.

Resisting the urge to laugh, Kevin attempted once again to make the sweatshirt look like it wasn’t trying to eat Daniel’s body. “Well, if we’re gonna die, at least it’ll be doing something we loved.”

Daniel snorted, apparently having no similar need to spare his feelings. “Wearing uncomfortable clothes and breaking pointless human laws?”

He leaned in and pecked Daniel’s scruffy cheek, ruffling his hair before quickly stepping away; it was hard to tell which annoyed him more, but it was definitely a one-two punch of obnoxiousness. “I was going to say ‘saving your ass,’” he said, wishing that had come out a bit less sappy-sounding. Ducking into the bathroom and turning on the faucet, he leaned out the open door. “And stop calling shit ‘human’ like some kind of alien,” he added, unwrapping the foil from his hair before bending over the sink. “I know you’re all _special_ because of your pal Zeemook, but you’re still just a regular human guy like the rest of us.”

It was hard to hear anything over the running water, so when Daniel’s voice appeared just over his shoulder he jumped, nearly smacking his head on the bathroom’s cheap mirror vanity: “It doesn’t even feel worth it to correct you,” he said, somehow sounding both airy and exhausted. “What has this life done to me?”

Kevin grinned, ducking under the faucet and rinsing his hair. “Ma always told me I was a bad influence.”

“Undeniably.” And then he just stood there, watching as Kevin finished working the bleach out of his hair. Daniel was like the worst kind of cat – sulking and seemingly annoyed by his presence, but following him from room to room nonetheless. It was a pain in the ass, but occasionally proved useful; as he reached blindly for a towel, Daniel dropped it into his hand, sighing as though even that small kindness was a waste of effort. “Your clothes smell awful,” he grumbled, sniffing the inner wrist of the sweatshirt he was wearing.

“Good. It’ll hide the bleach smell.” He straightened up, tousling his hair dry before tossing the towel away, and turned to Daniel with a smile. “Well? Do I look like a crazed religious serial killer?”

Daniel made a small, strained noise into the back of his hand, looking embarrassed by the laugh before it’d even left his mouth. “You look like you used to be in a boy band.”

Kevin checked himself out in the mirror, running his fingers across his jaw and chin. No matter how hard he’d tried, he couldn’t fully shave away the shadow speckling his cheeks, but hopefully no one would be getting a close enough look. 

But Daniel did have a point: blond _really_ wasn’t his color. “Maybe it needs the full ensemble,” he replied decisively, turning to the white clothes laid neatly over the towel rack. (It was probably the first time anything had been neat in his apartment in months.) “How do you know what a boy band is, anyway?” he asked as he shrugged into the clothing, wincing at the snug fit; none of Daniel’s stuff had a chance of fitting him, but even though the brand-new white polo and skinny jeans were in his own size, everything was so much tighter than he was used to. He couldn’t even wear underwear, for Christ’s sake!

It took him a minute of wrestling his hair into a stiff blond puff to realize Daniel hadn’t answered his question. Kevin turned, expecting that he’d wandered off, silent as a cat and just as disinterested. But Daniel was still leaning against the wall, hands buried in his hoodie pocket and ankles crossed, still staring at him. His eyes were narrowed into shards of blue ice, the way they always were when he wasn’t faking a good mood, but the white chill in them had melted away, darkening like the sky before a storm.

“Camp,” he murmured, and Kevin didn’t immediately realize it was a delayed response to his question. Daniel’s gaze was simultaneously glazed and sharp, like he was focusing intently on something miles away. When that look was turned on Kevin, it always made him feel both like a speck of dirt and, somehow, vitally important. Daniel swallowed, his throat bobbing delicately underneath the harsh dark stubble. “I’m not completely hopeless, you know.”

“No,” he replied easily, with no idea how he managed to sound so laid-back when his chest had tightened in the grasp of a warm, pulsing fist. He shifted back, snagging the towel off the floor and suppressing a shiver, Daniel’s gaze following his movements almost heavy enough to feel. “I wouldn’t be doing any of this shit if I didn’t think you had potential.”

(That wasn’t _strictly_ true.

The truth was, he’d always had a weakness for bad men.)

Kevin’s words had been obvious bait, and the lack of a retort was as clear a signal as if Daniel had laid out a sleazy pickup line. He wasn’t good at this, new as a kid in high school and infuriatingly used to getting what he wanted, and he sure as hell wasn’t slick. Whatever he could get some dumb camp counselors to believe, Kevin knew how to read him too well by this point.

 _“This.”_ Daniel’s words made him jump, spat with more venom than Kevin appreciated aimed at his ass. (Which, he had to admit, had to look pretty damn good. However uncomfy they were, he knew from experience that Daniel’s clothes clung tight as sin.) He glared first at Kevin, then down at the floor, tugging the neckline of his hoodie up to his nose and sniffing it. “This … terrible plan.”

“Hey, I don’t remember you having any better ideas,” he said, but without much vinegar. Daniel’s gee-whiz chipper act was very much an act, but that didn’t mean what laid beneath was any less fake. Not that he _wasn’t_ a misanthropic asshole with a god complex – no, that was all very true. It was just that, on occasion, he could be something else. Grateful. Happy, satisfied by something besides his own greatness or religious zeal. 

Scared. Of dying. Of being alone. Of anything he didn’t have complete control over. 

(Or maybe that was Dirty Kevin’s weakness talking. His ma always said he’d make excuses for anyone who made him feel special.)

He smiled, rubbing at his too-smooth cheek with the back of one hand, and stepped closer, carding his fingers through Daniel’s brown hair until it half-resembled his own. “They just have to see two things,” he said, as gently as he thought either of them could stomach. “Their friendly neighborhood drug dealer wandering around doing his own thing, not-harboring-a-fugitive as can be. And someone dressed a whole lot like you heading out of town.”

Daniel stared at him, his eyes seeming so much larger and bluer with Kevin’s eyeliner ringing them (a bit artlessly, but it was his best attempt). His darkened eyebrows were drawn low and together, but there weren’t any other signs of anger in his stupid, unguarded face. His mouth opened, but he didn’t say anything.

Kevin patted his cheek, rubbing his palm against the uncharacteristic bristles of a reluctant five o’clock shadow. “It’ll just take a day or two,” he continued, using the pad of his thumb to carefully smooth out the wobbly line Daniel had drawn underneath one eye. “I’ve got a friend I can stay with, dump these clothes. I’ll be back before you have time to miss me.”

A smirk twisted Daniel’s lips, finally restoring his expression to something much more familiar. “You couldn’t ever be gone long enough for that.”

“Yeah?” He swayed closer, letting his eyes drift half-closed. The smell was all wrong, backwards, disorienting: Daniel was supposed to be sharp and astringent, like the bleach he insisted on destroying his hair with and the harsh perfume of hand sanitizer – not like smoke and alcohol, Kevin’s cheap cologne and the fabric softener that was his only non-illegal indulgence. (Dirty Kevin liked comfy clothes. Sue him.) But Kevin’s hair still held the faint scent of a swimming pool, so this close they managed to mingle, coming together into a familiar, toxic mix of chemicals that would destroy his lungs and every other organ too, probably. “Then why’d you watch me get dressed, altar boy?”

The two of them were a sensory poison symbol – a cocktail that was addictive, intoxicating, and deadly.

Daniel didn’t respond, and while Kevin usually let the silent treatment thing slide, his skin was tingling from everywhere Daniel’s breath touched him and it was infuriating, _distracting_. “Ya know, Danny, you look too neat,” he said, running his hands over Daniel’s shoulders and chest in an unsuccessful attempt to ruffle him up; somehow his wrinkled clothes took on a starched, stiff quality the second they draped around Daniel, as though his uptightness seeped out through his pores. “No one’ll buy you’re me if you’re not a little more fucked –”

He was cut off mid-sentence, stumbling back as Daniel surged forward like a wave, digging his fingers in Kevin’s newly bleached hair and dragging him through the inch of air between them. The sink dug into his spine as they staggered into it, a sharp flash of pain like scraping the ocean floor, but there was nowhere to move with Daniel’s body pressed flush against his, one leg slotted between his own and a hand splayed possessively against the small of his back.

Kissing Daniel was normally a very cautious operation, gently coaxing reactions from him like finding the sculpture in a block of marble. He was usually so cold and unyielding, not asexual but _sexless_ , sterile and glittering with the frosty passion of religious mania. And then, eventually, there was a moment, a break, where the protective layers of rock fell away and the masterpiece was revealed in beautiful panting breaths and the desperate, fumbling heat of his body. Kevin usually had to work pretty hard to earn that break, with slow, teasing kisses and whispers to pick away at the stone. It shouldn’t come so easily from a new outfit and a clumsy, malformed pick-up line. 

Then again, he usually wasn’t dressed in Daniel’s clothes, preparing to assume his identity to chase away any persistent authorities.

“Dan,” Kevin began – as well as he could with someone else’s tongue in his mouth. He pulled back enough to suck in a few cold gasps of non-Daniel-flavored air, his exhale turning into a stuttered wheeze as Daniel shifted his attention to dragging his mouth down his neck, the unfamiliar rasp of his stubble a flare of cold fire against his skin. Daniel yanked the collar of his shirt aside, sucking a savage mark into the curve where his neck and shoulder met, and Kevin hissed, bracing himself against the sink behind him to keep his knees from giving out. “H-hey, man, hold on –”

“No,” Daniel growled, the grip on Kevin’s hair tightening as he lifted his head for another brutal, bruising kiss. The hand at his back slid down, palming his ass roughly before circling around to his belt. The movement forced Daniel to shift backwards a bit to make room for his fingers, a separation barely noticeable if it hadn’t caused the pressure of his thigh between Kevin’s legs to abate, just enough to clear his head halfway.

He managed another ragged breath, tearing his mouth away from Daniel’s – though he couldn’t quite bring himself to tug the hand away from his belt. “Seriously – _fuck_ –” Daniel smirked and ground the heel of his hand against Kevin’s zipper once more, a move that he had _most certainly_ taught him, which seemed highly unfair to have used against him like this. “Are you okay?” he tried again, because this was all way out of the ordinary which probably meant it was not right, and Dirty Kevin was a lot of things but he sure as hell wasn’t _that_ kind of creep. “I know shit’s really weird right now, but – _Jesus –”_

 _“Shut up.”_ The words were accompanied by two harsh bites along his jaw, and he rolled his hips into Kevin’s, his hand trapped between their bodies in a way that was probably uncomfortable for Daniel but shot pleasure up Kevin’s spine like an injection. “Shut up, shut _up_ , for Xemüg’s sake why can’t you ever _stop talking?”_

He tore Kevin’s belt open, shoving his pants down to his knees before grinding forward again; the dry friction of jeans against his bare cock burned in a way that would soon become unbearable but for the moment was fucking _beautiful_ , and he dropped his forehead onto Daniel’s shoulder with a groan. That was more than convincing enough for him. “Whatever you want,” he mumbled, realizing belatedly that what Daniel apparently wanted was for him to stop speaking, but unable to dam the flood of words building in his throat and seriously running the risk of killing whatever mood had Daniel writhing lava-hot and urgent against him. “Kiss me,” he begged, because it was the only way to shut him up, “Dan, kiss me _please –”_

It was less a kiss than a collision, their teeth clacking together hard enough to make his ears ring. Before he could fully catch his breath, Daniel was dragging it back out of him, tongue lapping at the roof of his mouth, tracing the shape of his own, refusing to let him pull away for air. He kissed like a car crash, like a natural disaster, all broken bones and sizzling wreckage and quaking, razed-to-the-ground chaos. And Kevin submitted to the destruction, letting Daniel push him back against the sink and ravage his mouth, because he could count on one hand the number of times Daniel had touched him with anything approaching this kind of unrelenting, flash-fire need for control, and if this was what he was in the mood for after freezing his ass off in Antarctica, Dirty Kevin didn’t find it worth his time to argue. Especially when – he choked, a surprised gasp and relieved groan fighting for space in his throat – Daniel rocked their hips together, disintegrating any shred of misgiving left into a burst of fractured starlight.

There was a soft metallic click behind him, and Daniel broke the kiss, shoving Kevin’s head out of the way of the mirror cabinet’s door as it swung open and snagging a half-empty tube of lubricant from inside. Alarm cut through Kevin’s fever of arousal, and he said, “Whoa, Dan, you can’t – I haven’t prepped or anything.”

Daniel barely glanced up. “Oh, no,” he replied dryly, the corner of his mouth twitching. “My clothes might get dirty. That’d be _such_ a shame.”

Kevin had to admit, he’d gotten worse things on that sweatshirt. And the sight of Daniel painstakingly smearing his fingers with glistening oil made it hard to focus on anything beyond the dizzying need to be touched. “It’ll … take too long,” he finally managed, forcing the words out past a tongue that felt heavy and swollen from kissing. “We’ve gotta be out of here while the sun’s still up. We don’t have time.”

“We don’t have time to do this slow and nice,” he corrected, his voice obnoxiously placid despite his heavy breathing. “Plenty of time for fast and mean.”

Well, _fuck_. 

That was goddamn tempting.

But he hadn’t survived this long without learning to recognize bad ideas when he saw them, and while Dirty Kevin enjoyed pain as much as any self-respecting pervert … “Nuh-uh. I might haveta run from the cops, and no way I’m doing it with a sore ass.”

Daniel wrinkled his nose. “Disgusting.” 

It was tempting to flirt back – okay, and maybe it was kind of sad that “being insulted by a total douche” was totally normal for Kevin’s idea of flirting – but he was a lot more concerned with the lube snaking its way down Daniel’s wrist, tracing veins that stood out stark against his nearly translucent skin. “I’m serious. There’s no way in hell you –”

“Turn around,” Daniel replied, not even pretending to be interested in his lack of enthusiastic consent. His fingers dug painfully into Kevin’s shoulder, trying to rotate him with his only clean hand.

Kevin jerked himself out of Daniel’s grip; he was all for this weird hot antagonistic thing they had going on, but this was pushing him straight into pissed-off territory. He didn’t exactly relish the thought of a fight – Daniel was surprisingly strong for such a weedy guy, and Kevin had a long and proud history of cowardice – but he had about eight years and fifteen pounds on this brat, and he wasn’t above using them. “Jesus, I _said_ you’re not fucking me!”

“And I’m not,” he snarled back. “Can you _please_ just be quiet and trust me for once?”

The question was so stupid it left him speechless. But only for a second. _“What?_ N – _obviously_ no! You kill kids – are you _crazy?”_

Daniel surprised him with a huff of laughter, shaking his head and almost smiling. “Probably for the best,” he agreed, then raised his eyebrows, watching Kevin with amusement, and twirled his finger in a small circle. “Now _turn around_. I’m not asking again.”

That was less an order than the threat of a temper tantrum, but god help him, it worked. Dirty Kevin turned and braced his hands on the lip of the sink, gritting his teeth against the frisson that skittered down his spine at the bite in Daniel’s voice. _“‘Trust me,’”_ he grumbled, more to keep his composure as Daniel ran a slick finger down between his cheeks. “For fuck’s sake, you’re an idiot.”

“Look who’s talking,” Daniel murmured, leaning in and nipping at his earlobe. His body curled around Kevin’s like a parenthesis, close enough for him to feel the scrape of stubble against his jaw and the hard jut of his cock against his back. The sensations blended together with the smooth glide of Daniel’s hand between his legs, those unfairly deft fingers massaging oil into the skin of his balls, his inner thighs. 

Kevin shivered, feeling Daniel’s mouth twist into a smirk before pressing a damp kiss in the soft spot behind his ear, but there was no way he was going to let Daniel take that as a victory. “Do I – seriously have to teach you no means no?” he said, gasping as Daniel’s fingers circled his asshole with the lightest fluttering touch before skating back down to the base of his dick. “I thought you said you _weren’t_ completely hopeless.”

“Shut up, Kevin.” And maybe it was just that Daniel had bothered to use his name for once, but his voice seemed a little less scorn-filled than usual. He stepped away, the cool air of his absence raking chills down Kevin’s spine, and for the second time that afternoon he was left facing away from Daniel, making eye contact with his own reflection and trying to guess by ear what was happening behind him. (Admittedly, the wet sounds of lube and skin were a lot easier to place, filling him with a giddy kind of trepidation.) “I’ve never done this before,” he added, almost under his breath.

Okay, that _did_ rule out a bunch of possibilities. But he was distracted from putting together a running list of the stuff they hadn’t gotten around to yet by a sharp tap on his hip. He laughed, glancing over his shoulder. “What? Dan, you’ve _totally_ got my attention, here.”

Daniel’s face was pink, making his eyes glow almost silver, and Kevin couldn’t tell if it was from arousal or embarrassment. (Probably both.) “Bring your legs together,” he ordered, brisk and impatient like that should’ve been obvious. “Not all the way – _there.”_ Kevin did as he was told and gasped, body jolting with a half-aborted recoil as his thighs closed lightly around Daniel’s cock – he must’ve removed his jeans at some point in the last minute or so, and how horny did Kevin have to be not to notice?

Horny enough to let whatever this was happen. Hell, horny enough to let Daniel into his apartment in the first place. His dick had gotten him into a lot of stupid situations before, each dumb horny decision leading him to the man standing behind him. “Let me guess,” he managed, letting his head loll back onto Daniel’s shoulder and shivering at the heavy feeling twisting his stomach, “you picked this one up working at camp too?”

“Of course not.” And it was hard to tell, considering how flushed he already was, but it felt like the skin against Kevin’s cheek flared warmer. “This was a … common activity in our commune. A workaround to some of the stricter rules about bodily impurities.”

“Oh.” Kevin didn’t know what to say; Daniel talked about his childhood growing up in a murder-cult just about never, and even if his mind wasn’t already swimming, he’d have trouble coming up with a good response. 

Before he could say anything else, Daniel dug his fingers into his hips, holding him steady as he rocked forward. His cock glided down the cleft of Kevin’s ass, creating the lightest pressure against his hole before dragging across the hyper-sensitive skin of his perineum and pressing lightly against his balls, then pulling back and repeating the movement, just a little faster. The oily slick between his legs made each thrust smooth and frictionless as butter, and it was insane how such a teasing touch could send goosebumps shuddering across his bare limbs, dizzying and strangely cool against the heated surface of his skin.

Because Dirty Kevin’s self preservation instincts were patchy at best, he couldn’t resist an incredulous laugh. “Oh my god, am I back in high school?” Daniel made a soft outraged noise in the back of his throat, and his hips jerked forward with more force, catching against the outside of his prostate and knocking the breath out of him – which, if that was supposed to be a punishment to shut him up, it backfired _spectacularly_. “And here I – _fuck_ , like that, do that again – thought I was the first guy you got nasty with.”

“You _were.”_ Kevin almost missed the muttered words, drowned out by the blood rushing in his ears and muffled by the sharp, staccato way they were breathed against his shoulder, like Daniel had been trying to keep them back. “But I … heard enough.”

Heat gathered heavy at the base of his spine, shooting across his nerve endings and making it hard to pay attention to what they were talking about. Still he grinned and arched his back, pushing back on Daniel’s cock and catching his earlobe between his teeth. “I knew I was special,” he teased, his voice already hoarse like he’d spent the last half hour deep-throating an entire chorus line of dicks.

And then there was only one hand holding his hips steady as Daniel rutted against him, not faltering even as his other hand snaked up to close around his throat. “What the _fuck_ do I have to do,” he said between panting breaths that were growing harsher with each brutal snap of his hips, “to get you to stop talking?”

The shock of hearing Daniel swear would’ve knocked him speechless any day, so the fingers digging into his neck were probably overkill. Kevin tried to inhale, but it was like trying to suck in air through a clogged straw; the muscles of his throat spasmed involuntarily, and Daniel flexed his hand seemingly in response, tightening his grip. Pain sank deep into the places Daniel’s fingers pressed, the throbbing ache of the bruises forming there matching the racing rhythm of his oxygen-starved heart and the pleasure still pulsing through him with every frantic thrust, all melding together in waves of overwhelming stimulation that threatened to drive him under into unconsciousness.

Panic buzzed at the edges of his awareness, the knowledge that Daniel had killed before – that he was a _serial killer_ – that Kevin very well could die like this, and a very distant voice lamented what a stupid, embarrassing death it’d be. And yet that knowledge short-circuited somewhere in the confusing web of synapses in his brain, and the lack of control and sick, uncertain terror lanced through him like a pulse from a vibrator, and with what little energy his shaking legs had left he rocked backward, mindlessly riding Daniel’s cock and chasing the intense pleasure made heady and scorching and dizzying from the lack of air and sure he might die like this but god what a _way to go_ –

Then Daniel’s hand fell away, and the air ripping into Kevin’s lungs was such a relief it hurt, like inhaling the steam from boiling water. He collapsed forward, barely catching himself against the sink to keep himself upright. He managed a handful of sobbing breaths before the onslaught of conflicting sensations became too much and he wrapped his fingers around his cock, squeezing his eyes shut and letting the entire world narrow down to this one second, this moment before the world shattered.

Daniel dug his fingers into the collar of Kevin’s polo shirt, choking him again for a second before he was hauled upright, one arm wrapping around his chest possessively while the other kept its punishing grasp on his hip. The hand on his chest spasmed, splaying flat over his heart before balling his shirt into a fist, fingernails dragging dully against his chest. Daniel’s breath was ragged and heavy in his ear, almost whistling as he continued to fuck Kevin’s thighs.

“Shit,” Kevin managed. His hand speeding up to match Daniel’s frantic thrusts, he turned his head and mouthed at Daniel’s neck, teeth catching on a patch of impossibly soft skin and biting down, sucking hard.

Daniel hissed his name, and the world jolted out of focus, obliterated in a blinding white snap of pleasure.

As his mind began to seep back into full consciousness, slow like a shallow cut bleeding, he became aware of the weight against his back: Daniel, leaning against him, the two of them holding each other up by a careful counterbalance. While they caught their breath and recovered the ability to move, it was a strange little truce, a momentary trust only possible in the seconds after sex.

So of course Dirty Kevin had to go and ruin it. “Wow,” he said, closing his eyes and tipping his head back onto Daniel’s shoulder. Forget drugs – there was nothing more addictive than the buzzing, loose-limbed exhaustion of a good orgasm. “Haven’t done that since like tenth grade.”

Predictable as clockwork, Daniel pulled away roughly, shoving him forward into the sink; Kevin only managed not to crack his face against the mirror because he’d been expecting it. “People like you are exactly what Xemüg wants to rid the world of,” he snapped, snatching the towel from the floor and roughly wiping himself clean. “You’re dripping with toxins, even after that. It’s _disgusting.”_

“Dripping with somethin’, all right.” He looked down at himself and grimaced at the mess of lube and come trickling down his legs. “Shit, I don’t have another pair of pants. Does oil wash out of clothes?”

“Of course it does.” He could hear Daniel’s eye roll behind him, as well as the awful cracking sound of his neck. “Get in the shower. I’d never be caught in public looking like that.”

“Aww, love you too,” Kevin teased, blowing him a kiss as he wriggled out of his disguise. A muscle in Daniel’s jaw twitched, an obvious sign of annoyance – save for the sudden, sharp intake of breath. _Okay. Add love to the “stuff we don’t joke about that” list_ , he thought with a sigh, wondering yet again how he got himself into this situation with such a humorless dick.

When he emerged from the shower, Daniel was hunched over the sink, holding the white jeans under Kevin’s blow-dryer. He barely spared him a glance, intently focused on his task, but he muttered, “Better, at least.”

Kevin wasn’t sure if he meant the clothes or him. “I clean up all right,” he said after a moment, ruffling his hair to dry it. “Do I need to go buy new stuff?”

“Don’t be stupid,” he replied absently. “Compared to what I’m usually cleaning up, this is easy.”

And there he went, making Kevin feel vaguely sick. Without adrenaline and hormones mixing their stupid cocktail in his head, thinking about his new roommate’s very-recent history of child murder wasn’t hot so much as scary as fuck. But he wasn’t exactly an angel either, so he coughed into his fist and said nonchalantly, “Right. Blood’s probably not a picnic.” He usually just threw away stuff that got blood on it. Probably part of why he never had much money in the first place, come to think of it.

Daniel’s eyes flicked up to his, just long enough to make it clear that he knew exactly what Kevin was thinking. “And dirt. Paint. Food. Pine sap. I did work mostly at summer camps,” he reminded him with a faint smirk.

Kevin cleared his throat; maybe it was something about being brutally choked that kept making him feel like there was something caught in it. “Yeah. Totally.” Looking for a change of topic, he suddenly noticed the come splashed against the sink and the wall behind it. “Ugh, we should deal with that before it dries.”

“Be my guest.” Daniel unplugged the hairdryer and disappeared into the living room, leaving him to crawl under the basin and mop up the mess – and remember that they really needed to clean their bathroom more often, with or without sex-related motivation.

“This isn’t the most romantic thing we’ve ever done,” he shouted, more to distract himself from the various sludges coating their pipes. (Also dead bugs. How did bugs even get under the sink?)

Daniel didn’t reply, which made sense. Kevin probably needed to ease up on the domestic jokes, anyway. All things considered, it felt a little too … weird. Couple-y.

Even Dirty Kevin knew enough to realize that line of thinking was a big ol’ _yikes_.

Daniel was still working on the clothes when he joined him in the living room. “Just a few minutes,” he said without looking up.

“No problem.” It probably was a problem – they were definitely behind schedule now – but he was still riding high on endorphins and it was easy to not worry about it. He flopped onto the couch, ignoring Daniel’s scoff of disgust. “Hey, it’s my couch, and it’s my ass. And if you didn’t want me sitting on my own furniture buck naked, you shouldn’ta ruined my clothes.” Daniel rolled his eyes again, which was not a cute habit. “You know, sometimes I wish you were still pretending to be all happy-go-lucky. You were a lot less of a dick then.”

He snorted. “I think you appreciate the tradeoffs,” he replied, the sassy bitch.

“You got me there.” Sometimes he wondered if he would’ve joined that weirdo Woodscouts cult if he’d known what Daniel was really like. And not just the homicidal stuff, just his general unpleasant ill-temperedness. For someone who was all about ridding people of toxins and negativity, he was literally the least positive person Kevin had ever met.

Hell, he probably wouldn’t have done anything differently. He wasn’t known for making good decisions.

“There.” Daniel tossed him the clothes, cracking his neck again. “Good enough?”

As if he cared. Kevin shrugged into the clothes, wincing at the patches of scorching blow-dried heat (mostly along the crotch. Awesome). He saw a smirk flit across Daniel’s face, but it was replaced with boredom so quickly it might’ve been his imagination. He bounced on the balls of his feet, shaking his arms to dispel the last of the hazy afterglow thrumming through his nerves. “Okay, so you’re gonna make a slow circle, right?” he said, gesturing to the crude map of the town he’d scrawled across the wall. (Like he was ever gonna get his security deposit back anyway.) “City Hall, Muffin Tops, Pine Park, Only Bar, Muffin Tops again, then back home. Make sure you’re not back til midnight at the earliest.”

“Mm-hmm.” He hadn’t even known two syllables could radiate so much disdain before he met Daniel. “I’ll manage a reasonable facsimile of your disgusting job, don’t worry.”

That was probably the best he could hope for. “Great,” he replied, snagging a white cross-shoulder bag that already had his change of clothes and other necessities. (Weed and a toothbrush – the most important elements of any good vacation.) “I’ll wait half an hour and head out, then. Make sure you’re still by City Hall – I’ll be going the opposite way, and I don’t want anyone to see us too close together and start comparing faces.” Daniel made a noncommittal noise, focused on popping green contacts into his eyes. The color was apparently meant to match that David guy down at that camp the Woodscouts took over, so his eyes were a lot more blue than Kevin’s own, but it wasn’t like he’d be spending much time under good lighting anyway. (Besides, his clientele weren’t really the “gazing into their drug dealer’s eyes” types, most of the time, so it wouldn’t be a problem.) “Don’t forget your keys,” he added as Daniel moved toward the door, snagging them off the table and tossing them across the room.

He caught them one-handed, and a very tiny, very gay part of Kevin swooned. Shoving them into one of the deep pockets of his baggy jeans, he nodded, giving them both a quick once-over. “I mentioned this is a terrible plan, right?”

“Only a dozen times. Don’t worry, we’ve got this,” he lied casually. He still felt the irrational need to check to make sure Daniel had everything – and wasn’t that cute, fretting over the FBI’s most wanted like a mother hen – so instead he wandered over to the window, watching a cat slink down the alley. “Have a good time, and try not to stab anybody.”

He didn’t hear Daniel’s footsteps behind him (his mind was focused more on how he’d spent his career trying _not_ to get into police chases, and what a good idea that’d always been), so the rough hand on his shoulder nearly gave him a heart attack. He was hauled around before he could do more than let out a startled yelp – abruptly cut off by a hard, unyielding mouth against his own, a kiss that was mostly a headbutt with teeth, angry and sudden and over just as quickly as Daniel shoved him back against the window. He looked disgusted and almost furious, though with himself or with Kevin it was hard to tell.

“Don’t be stupid,” he snapped, before Kevin could speak. His eyes darted from the floor to the window, then he took a couple steps back and pushed his hands back into his hoodie pockets. “Try to overcome your natural toxicity and tendency to ruin everything, because for some terrible reason we both have to rely on you.”

He took a shaky breath, resisting the urge to laugh. “Got it, boss.” Once he was alone in the apartment, he collapsed back onto the couch, scrubbing his face with his hands. “Hey, Ma,” he said after a moment; he didn’t know if any of that stuff his grandparents said was true, about dead people watching over their families or whatever – and even if it was, there was no chance his ma would stick around for any of the stuff Kevin got up to anyways – but it sometimes made him feel better to chat with her like she was still just a phone call away. “Turns out you were right … again. Still haven’t got the brains God blessed a squirrel.” The thing was, Daniel didn’t seem to be much better, for all his arrogance and skilled manipulation.

This couldn’t possibly end well, but Dirty Kevin was starting to think they were both too damn stupid to walk away.

Somewhere in the afterlife, he was pretty sure his Ma was laughing at him.


End file.
